


Every Breath You Take

by Spongyllama



Series: Asylum [4]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Abduction, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dark, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sidious is a Creep, Slavery, What else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:00:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spongyllama/pseuds/Spongyllama
Summary: Set near the beginning ofAsylum. Darth Sidious pays a visit to his new plaything.
Relationships: Sheev Palpatine & Anakin Skywalker
Series: Asylum [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767319
Comments: 31
Kudos: 73





	Every Breath You Take

**Author's Note:**

> HEY this is DARK my dudes so don’t say I didn’t warn you!!!
> 
> I’ve been obsessed with this idea ever since “The Phantom Apprentice” (TCW spoilers) when Maul said that Sidious had been “grooming” Anakin for years. Even though we already _knew_ that, hearing a character actually say it like that in canon hit me like a brick. Wrote it back during June but I didn’t want to exhaust all my finished material too quickly haha. If for whatever reason you haven’t read Asylum the summary of the series alone should be enough for you to understand this. I personally think of this as sort of an alternate Chapter 4, the one where I torture the shit out of Anakin for no good reason, which in retrospect I think is a little too...much. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

The sky grew dark on Coruscant at the end of another day in politics. 

Darth Sidious’s work as Chancellor had concluded for the evening, all the mundane, bureaucratic tasks that filled his daylight hours brought to a close. This little career path of his was bothersome sometimes, but in the end, when all his visions and plans came to fruition, then and perhaps _only_ then — it would all have been worth the mundanity.

He sat with his fingertips together, face angled toward the window without truly looking out at the darkening horizon. He was, of course, looking elsewhere — out into the Force, reaching his spiritual grip into the dark side and searching for secrets. It was a ritual now of sorts, a way to wrap up the volume of intelligence gathered throughout the work day. It was a time to analyze, to plan, to adapt to situations as they arose. For that was what a Sith Master did best — they adapted, and controlled.

In a war there were many such situations that needed adapting, though in truth everything was going remarkably according to plan. It was almost pathetic how few hurdles there were in his rise to unlimited power. He could count on two hands the key figures he had to dispose of before the empire could come to fruition — if one counted the bulk of the Jedi Order one one finger, that was. Most of them would indeed be easy to remove from the picture once Protocol 66 became an issued order, which left the arrogant Windu and the ancient imp Yoda…Kenobi, of course, and that bratty little apprentice he shared with Skywalker…the latter two of which, Sidious thought, would be done away with as soon as his pet project was completed….

Along with a few stray politicians and members of the Separatist Council, that left Amidala. That irksome brat. Her time was far past, his use for her extinguished. She’d played her part, though she’d always proved to complicate matters — and never worse than on Naboo just recently, where she’d near singlehandedly forced him to change the whole course of the war overnight. It was all wrong — she and Skywalker were supposed to be lovesick fools. He was supposed to be her weakness, and she his. Darth Sidious did not like surprises, and Amidala’s abandonment of Skywalker during Tyranus’s offer of prisoner exchange had been a surprise to be sure.

It was infuriating. What right did she have to change the fate of his galaxy? Of _his_ war? Skywalker was supposed to turn at the end _._ Grievous was likewise supposed to make it to the end. The same did not need to be said for Amidala. She was more than welcome to die at any time.

Unfortunately, she had always proved quite difficult to kill.

But the dark side was patient, and Darth Sidious was its master, after all. He could wait a little longer, and perhaps he would arrange a little accident for her once the boy was ready….

He sensed the activation of the comm unit a moment before it happened, and he turned to see the long-awaited hologram of Tyranus. In his mind and in the Force, the lingering image of Amidala’s tragic death at the hands of her lover fueled his passion.

Tyranus kneeled before him. A good recruit to the Sith legacy, Tyranus was an excellent pawn in his chess game…arrogant, overly sure of himself — but not one that Sidious expected would be tempted to overthrow him. Indeed if anything, Tyranus was a by-the-book perfect Sith apprentice. Too by-the-book for Sidious’s liking, sometimes. Ideally, however, the former Jedi had some information about the boy that would, unbeknownst to him, eventually replace him….

_“An update for you, my master, regarding your pet project. Phase I is drawing to a close, and we are awaiting your command to proceed.”_

Darth Sidious allowed a dark smile to contort his features. “Good,” he said, drawing out the word. “The boy’s will is broken, then?”

_“It is, my master. Skywalker’s fear has entirely overcome him. He is a shell of that petulant brat I captured on Naboo. As I recall, my lord, you wished to be present for the initiation of Phase II? Would you like us to prepare him for your arrival?”_

Sidious did indeed wish to be there. He would not allow this operation to proceed with any flaws. Yes, he had faith in his apprentice’s ability to follow his orders, but this was not any other side project. This was the Jedi’s precious Chosen One, the Hero, the boy he had spent so many years now shaping. It was unfortunate to have all that effort lost, but the Force told him his work had not been entirely futile.

An idea came to him. A wonderful, brilliant idea. He could not believe he had not thought of it before. He held up one hand, as if to slow his apprentice down. “Indeed, I will be there, but do not yet remove him to the new facility. I believe there is someone that would like to visit him, first.”

_“A visit, my master? From whom?”_

For a moment, Sidious indulged himself in a trifle, a second of good fun, and slipped Palpatine’s face back on. “From his kindly old grandfather figure.”

Tyranus’s elderly face flashed excitement for a shadow of a second. _“Indeed, my lord, I believe a visit is an excellent idea.”_

* * *

The boy was half-naked in his foul-smelling, cramped stone cell, his skin riddled with bruises and dried blood and open wounds courtesy of Tyranus’s minions. He was clothed only in the shredded, tattered remains of his Jedi leggings, which hung limply against his thinning body. His hair was wild, unkempt, hanging in front of his sullen, empty eyes. His half-inoperable mechanical arm rested in his lap, wrists bound together with energy binders linked by a glowing chain to the wall. He did not look up at his new visitor, but rather stared despondently at the wall as if drained of the ability to care.

That would not do. A movement of one finger, and the Force turned the boy’s head to him. Skywalker’s gaze was unfocused, uninterested, almost bored. 

Tyranus cleared his throat from the doorway. “You are in the presence of Darth Sidious, boy,” he said. “Why don’t you greet your new master?”

“Master…,” Skywalker muttered, a confused frown etching itself into his sunken features. Sidious watched as he tried and failed to bring himself out of his delirium. “Only have one master….”

“Kenobi cannot help you now,” Sidious said, stepping closer to his new tool. “Perhaps…another father figure.”

Slowly, as if trying to figure out what those words meant, Skywalker’s eyes slowly raised to meet Sidious’s own. He blinked, again and again, his confusion exploding in the Force. He murmured, to himself, “Chancellor?” but then he shook his head and looked away, back at the wall. “Now I’m really losing it.”

Another flick of the finger, turning the boy’s head again. The Force raised his chin, made him look at the Sith Lord looming above him. The boy could not feel the Force himself, the midi-chlorian inhibitor saw to that, but he would recognize it for what it was. Sidious looked down at him, granted his future apprentice a moment to figure things out —

Perhaps some assistance. Perhaps…this could be more entertaining even than he’d hoped. Slowly, he lowered the hood from over his eyes, giving Skywalker a better view. Then, he hid the shadows from his face and donned the visage of the kindly old man. The boy’s eyes widened. His lips parted, his jaw loosened, and any remainder of the stubborn, defiant Jedi melted away as he realized what he was seeing.

“No,” he breathed, shaking his head again in disbelief. “No. No, it can’t be. You can’t be.”

“And why not?” Sidious said in the Chancellor’s lighthearted tone, the same one he had used all those years, to entertain the boy’s fantasies of a life greater than the Jedi could ever give him. “Because it would mean I kept a secret from you? The same way that you yourself kept secrets from _your_ friends?”

“You’re a — you’re _the_ — the war, everything, _you —”_

“Me,” Sidious replied simply. Slowly, he stepped forward, kneeling before his prize as if to offer a child a shoulder to cry on. “Me, Anakin, and _you._ ”

“Get away from me,” Skywalker said suddenly, trying to scramble back but his head met with the stone corner of the wall, failing to shrink away like he wanted, failing to hide. His bound hands raised as if to shield his head, or his bare chest. “Get away, get away! Don’t touch me, don’t —”

“My boy,” Sidious said very softly in Palpatine’s voice, his hands slipping out from under his sleeves and coming to rest on either side of the boy’s face, relishing in Skywalker’s sudden, intense fear. Growing from it. Breathing it in and out like oxygen. The boy recoiled — he detested touch, Sidious knew, if it came from those he did not know, or trust, or love. A byproduct, like many other habits he maintained, from a childhood in slavery. The Chancellor had earned that trust years ago and had taken every advantage — a comforting hand on the shoulder, or back, placed there when Skywalker lamented the dogma of the Jedi Order. When he complained about his rigid master, or confessed to the slaughter of a tribe of desert natives.

Sidious, in truth, was disinterested in physical touch. He was beyond bodily needs, lust, human desires. His only desire was for power. And right now — he had it. Ultimate, unlimited power — the power to control this boy. If touch could be a means to an end, Sidious would enjoy it just this once. His thumb traced over Skywalker’s quivering lower lip, over the scar under his eye, caressed his skin. He stared into those wide, terrified blue eyes and imagined them Sith yellow. They would be soon, because he wished it. Those eyes were his, after all, as was this trembling boy, and his body and his mind and his terrific, awesome Force power.

“So many years went into this,” Sidious murmured, speaking more to the dark side than to his little pet. “It is a shame we must abandon our original endeavors. You were coming along quite nicely, you know. You would have been remarkable when you were finished. But, circumstances change. The dark side adapts, and so must its master.”

“How could you?” Skywalker whimpered, shaking under his touch. “I t-trusted you, I told you everything, how could you, how _could_ you —”

“I could,” Sidious breathed with traces of the Sith’s voice, his true voice, leaning in so their faces were inches apart, “Because you are mine. You are the very Force itself, my boy, and I cannot allow you be contained by the Jedi. There is a ruthless monster inside you, and soon it will be unleashed. Soon you will join me, and the dark side will be stronger than it has been in a millennium.”

“I won’t,” Skywalker spat, finally finding his anger. That precious, coveted anger. He tried to shake his head out of Sidious’s grip, which tightened like a vice. “Never, I’ll never turn, you might as well just kill me —”

“You will wish that I had,” Sidious replied calmly. “Accept the truth, Anakin. Accept that you have no other choice. It will make this process go much quicker.”

“What — what _process?_ What do you _want_?”

“You will see,” Sidious said simply as he rose to his feet. “Though _you_ will not be around to remember it.” Skywalker looked up at him in horrified wonder. As Sidious turned and made his way toward the door of the cramped cell, he heard a rustle behind him. An amused glance showed him that Skywalker was struggling to stand, leaning heavily against the wall and looking at him in a great show of defiance.

The boy clung there to the wall, his atrophied muscles struggling to keep him upright, and he snarled, “I will _never_ be a Sith, and I will never, _ever_ be your slave.”

Sidious then indulged himself in a laugh, deep and guttural. Skywalker whitened, his courage visibly tested, stunned by the change in the kindly old man he was used to. As if he were betrayed only now, when Sidious showed his true face. As if he had not yet comprehended the truth despite the Chancellor’s taunts and intimate touches. Amusing — the boy was delightfully angry, wonderfully fearful, but he was never quite that bright.

In the Sith’s voice, Sidious said, “I look forward to your resistance. It will make breaking you that much more enjoyable.”

Skywalker slid a little against the wall, and with a grunt one of his knees gave out. Grimacing, he said, “Bring it on. I like a good fight.”

Sidious smiled, baring his teeth. Skywalker continued to stare at him, angry and defiant but wary and afraid. “I wonder if you will feel that way when I send you to kill Kenobi.”

As Sidious had suspected, that was what made the boy break down. He could sense understanding growing, blossoming within Skywalker, a rise in comprehension as he realized he truly would not be given a choice in the matter. Still, he shook his head miserably. “I won’t do it,” he whined, and a sob tore through his whole body and throughout the Force. “I won’t, I won’t, I won’t….”

A quirk of Sidious’s hand, and Tyranus nodded to a figure outside the room. A pair of doctors entered, one armed with a sedative hypo — all this work could be done with droids, of course, but there was something thrilling about using all organics. Something deliciously dehumanizing, something that would without fail remind the boy that he was a slave, the only relevant detail of his past life that would be passed on to his future one….

“I won’t do it, I won’t —”

The Sith watched as the doctors knelt before his pet, readying a hypo which would knock him out so they could begin Phase II…it truly was unfortunate, Sidious thought, that their revised plans necessitated such damage be done to the boy’s body and brain, but then again the original plan would have likewise required crippling him somehow…the boy was a powerhouse, after all, and precautions must be taken to stop him from ever being able to kill his new Sith master, as Sidious had killed his own....

“I won’t….”

Skywalker was still repeating his new mantra as the hypo was pressed into his skin, and by the time he passed out tears were still drying on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> for how much I love Anakin to death I also love torturing him. not sure what that says about me. Ani sweetie I’m so sorry
> 
> This was so fun to write. I just want to say many fans are convinced that Sidious and/or Plagueis actually created Anakin but I do not and will not subscribe to that notion…surprisingly that’s a little too fucked up even for me (and detracts from Anakin’s autonomy and character arc as a whole). From what I understand the canonicity of this claim is dubious at best HOWEVER canon in Star Wars means absolutely nothing anymore, so……………..
> 
> Anyway I thank you for reading this, please do let me know what you think! I promise the next thing I post will be happy again, that Ahsoka companion piece to Dedicated that I mentioned. See you then if you’re into that!
> 
> p.s. 99% of my chapter/fic titles are just song titles from my itunes library that feel right. so thanks Sting lmao


End file.
